Invidia
by auroracode
Summary: It was something he'd never admit out loud, would die before he let anyone know it, but sometimes Chuuya couldn't help but feel rather jealous of Dazai.


It was something he'd never admit out loud, would die before he let anyone know it, but sometimes Chuuya couldn't help but feel rather jealous of Dazai. It was pathetic really, Dazai was a useless waste of bandages, a suicide maniac with a black heart, there wasn't anything about him that should make Chuuya jealous, and yet he was.

Because in spite of all Dazai's flaws, there were some things the younger boy had that Chuuya didn't, some things he would never have.

For one, Dazai knew who he was and where he'd come from, he might have done his best to distance himself from his past, in fact Chuuya was fairly certain that neither Dazai nor Osamu were his real name but rather ones he had chosen for himself, but he still had memories of his past. He still knew where he came from, still knew for sure when he was born, he still knew who his parents were and whether they were alive or if had loved him.

(Personally, Chuuya suspected that neither was the case, children who have living and loving families didn't usually end up in the mafia)

Chuuya didn't have that though, he'd hoped when he'd become an executive and gained access to his files that he'd finally found out, but in the end, he was just left with more questions. The documents contained in his records were research papers; they were clinical and organized, listing an identification number, a description of a subject matching his appearance and the details of numerous experiments that sometimes left Chuuya with nightmares. There was no explanation of how he'd ended up an experiment, or who his parents were or even what his name really was.

Chuuya had been a name bouncing around in his head after he'd woken up in wreckage of Suribachi City, he'd taken it for his own and stolen Nakahara from the back of a book so he had some form of identity that wasn't Arahabaki to cling to, but he had no proof it was actually his.

Just like he had no idea whether he was actually the boy listed in the records, he had the boy's body true, but was it really his and he'd had Arahabaki sealed in or merged with him? Or was he Arahabaki wearing the boy's empty body as a vessel?

He had no answers and so couldn't help the envy he felt towards Dazai, who knew his past and yet cut himself off from it.

Perhaps it would have been tolerable if the jealousy he felt towards Dazai ended there, but it hadn't, instead, Chuuya found himself jealous over his partner's friends Oda and Ango as well. It wasn't anything specific about who the two of them were, and it wasn't like Chuuya didn't have friends of his own, but there was no one he could confide in, no one he felt connected to the way Dazai seem to with his two friends.

(There had almost been one once, but they had died the night Chuuya first unleashed Corruption, leaving him alone again)

Truth be told there were often times that deep-set loneliness seemed to sink into Chuuya's body, working its way through his veins to wrap around his heart and squeeze tightly. Had he ever dared to state such a thing out loud however, it no doubt would've garnered him looks of confusion given the number of people he tended to interact with; Chuuya was one of the most social members of the Mafia; he went drinking with Hirotsu, had tea with Kouyou, sparred with members of the Black Lizards, played chess with Mori, and under duress, entertained both Q and Elise. Sometimes he even went out and did things with Dazqi, though those occasions were always filled with complaining and insults fired back and forth.

All in all, he didn't seem like the type of person who would be considered lonely, but that was how he felt. In some ways he supposed it was his own fault, he kept people at arm's length while pretending to be close to them, far too afraid to let people get truly close. It wasn't that he didn't want to be close to people, he longed to pour his heart out to someone, to express how he struggled with his identity, to talk about how much Corruption scared him, about how each time he used it the lingering pain got worse, he wanted to tell somebody how much he hated being in the mafia some days, how much he longed for freedom.

He couldn't say any of that though, even if he found someone he could trust to listen and not judge him, he was forbidden to talk about Arahabaki and Corruption without authorization. And bringing up his hatred of the Mafia and Mori would be considered treason, could very well get him killed.

So he said nothing, forcing a smile on those occasions where he passed Ango or Oda in the hall, or when he had to visit Lupin to drag Dazai out for a mission and would see them laughing together. It was fine, he was glad Dazai had his friends and while it might be nice to have something like that himself, he could survive without.

(He's not quite so jealous anymore after Ango is revealed to be a traitor and Oda dies, he has no envy for the sting of grief stabbing his partner in the heart)

And then Dazai leaves turns traitor and escapes the Mafia, leaving Chuuya and everybody else behind. It ignites a roar of fury in Chuuya's heart that he would do such a thing, that he'd turn his back on all of them so easily. After that comes a wave of hurt and abandonment, that the only person Chuuya had that he could consider family besides Kouyou had left him without even a goodbye. And then comes the bitter bitter taste of jealousy, because Dazai got out and that's something Chuuya doesn't think he'll ever do.

All of Chuuya's life has been a series of cages, one after another locking him in and keep precious freedom out of his grasp. First had been the lab, the most literal of all his cages; he'd been locked away, poked and prodded, split apart and sewn back together, not even considered a person just an experiment.

The Sheep had been a cage too, even if he hadn't realized it at the time; it had been a fenced-off yard with him as the guard dog, expected to bark and growl and bite at intruders in exchange for treats and little tidbits of affection. He was allowed to think he owned the place, that it was his domain, but the leash had yanked him backward if he tried to stray. He didn't blame the others though, sure they had treated him and his ability like a tool, one to be used and then discarded once it got dangerous, but they had just been kids trying to survive.

The Mafia was the best-disguised cage, draped with all manner of finery and dripping with honeyed words, but a gilded cage is still a cage nonetheless. Mori had wanted him, had herded him in with words and threats and then slammed the gate behind him, leaving him trapped. He'd dangled a carrot in front of him in the form of information about his past, leading him to chase after the position of Executive and become more ensnared in Mori's web.

Even Chuuya's own body and ability were a cage, using Corruption stole away his sense of self, leaving him a puppet controlled by nothing but rage, unable to stop or escape until he either died or Dazai reached out with his ability. Even with Dazai gone Corruption still had a hold on him, the ache in his bones and the burning of his nerves reminding him that he was trapped in a body that was gradually dying.

Dazai may have been able to cut his own strings, to slice away what bound him to Mori, but Chuuya would never be able to. Mori had been afraid of Dazai, and while there was no proof, Chuuya suspected he'd purposefully driven him away before he could become too big a threat. The search for where he went, the interrogations of those who frequently interacted with him, the declaration that he was a traitor, it was all a show. Letting someone leave the Mafia with no consequences would have made them look bad, but there was no real effort in Mori attempts to track Dazai down.

Chuuya knew it wouldn't be the same for him if he was to try and leave Mori would put actual effort into hunting him down, maybe even release the information about Arahabaki as an incentive to get others to hunt him. At best Chuuya might getaway, but he'd likely never be able to go back to Yokohama, he'd never get to see the people he cared about again and would likely spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder. At worst he'd be caught and dragged back to be punished, possibly locked up like Q and only released when his power was needed.

(His current life in the Mafia would always be better than that, fake freedom was better than none)

When Dazai resurfaces as part of the Armed Detective Agency, Chuuya once again feels the pangs of jealousy, but this time it's not towards Dazai, but his new partner Kunikida. Chuuya's glad to know Dazai has a partner, he's a reckless idiot who needs someone to watch out for him and keep him in line, but it hurts to know that's not him anymore.

Since Dazai had left any missions Chuuya went had been either solo or accompanied by members of the lower ranks, there was no longer a partner to watch his back. His envies the blonde-haired man for taking the place that once was his, wonders if Dazai ever misses the days it was them fighting together.

He thinks for a moment he might, during the fight with the Guild where they so easily slide back into their old roles; but then he awakes alone in a clearing instead of at the extraction point or in their apartment like he once would have, and he knows their time is over. Dazai's found a new family and there's no room for his old one in it.

And so he ignores the urge to track him down, to yell at him and let him know of all the envy festering inside Chuuya, to ask him if he even values the things Chuuya longs for so much. But he doesn't, instead, he bites his tongue and tries his best to embrace all the emotions swirling inside him, hoping desperately that they'll fill the emptiness inside him.


End file.
